


Father Of The Man

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-19
Updated: 2006-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: A traumatic incident has unexpected after-effects for Reed. (06/12/2005)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers: Season 3.  
  
Beta: Reedfem. She's the reason Trip and the other Americans sound American!  


* * *

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stood at his tactical station of the bridge of Enterprise. His hands flew over the controls but his eyes never left the main viewscreen. Time and again he deployed the grappler only to see it repeatedly

deflected by the defensive shields of the Igaran shuttle he was desperately trying to grab. The space station which dominated the viewscreen loomed ever larger until the shuttle was lost against the busy background.

Commander Trip Tucker's voice came through the open com-link from the station. 'Save me, Malcolm. Please.'

Reed reached for the phase cannon controls, but something was holding him back. Looking down he saw the Igaran child. He knew she would stop him, and Tucker would die. Reed pushed the child away, but another took her place, and another. Frantically he tried to dislodge the half dozen or more Igaren youngsters who were hanging on his arms, stopping him firing the phase cannons—stopping him saving Tucker. Their long bony fingers curled around his arms, tiny, needle-sharp claws catching in the fabric of his uniform, dragging him down. They mewled piteously in the sing-song Igaren tongue, but all Reed could hear was his lover.

'Goodbye, Malcolm. You failed. I guess you just didn't love me enough.'

'Trip!' he yelled, as on the screen the Igaren shuttle plunged into the station's main plasma manifold. A small, cold blue flare blossomed at the point of impact, ripples spreading out from it in a dreadful, beautiful symmetry as the explosion spread to engulf the whole of the Igaran space station.

* * *

'Trip!'

Tucker stirred, disturbed by the shout and by his partner's spasmodic thrashing. He reached out an arm and curled it around Reed's trembling form, hugging him close.

'Malcolm, wake up. I'm safe. We're all safe.'

He tightened his grip as Reed jerked awake, expertly avoiding the thrown punch that was his partner's inevitable response to being suddenly woken.

'It's okay, Mal. It's over. It's a dream, is all.'

'Shit!' Reed flopped onto his back and lay there panting, willing his racing heartbeat to return to normal. 'Sorry,' he said.

'Nothing to be sorry for, babe.'

'I'm glad you think so,' was the unpromising retort as Reed sat up and swung his legs out of the bed.

Tucker lay back with a sigh. 'I don't know what you want me to say, Malcolm, but I don't think you did anything wrong. I know the captain doesn't, and neither did the Igaran authorities.'

'And what about the parents of those children I killed? Do they think I, what was it the First Minister said , "...carried out a difficult task in exemplary fashion...a credit to Earth and to Starfleet"?'

Tucker stayed silent, too tired to try rehearsing the same arguments over again. It was five days since Reed had been forced to destroy the Igaren shuttle, four days since they left the system. No one blamed Reed for what had

happened. Except Reed himself.

'I'm sorry,' Reed eventually reiterated. 'It's just...I know you're right when I'm awake, but I dream and...'

'Come here.' Tucker tugged on Reed's arm, pulling him back down onto the bed, spooning up behind him and wrapping both arms around the shorter man. 'If

you hadn't done what you did, I'd be dead now. The captain and three and a half thousand Igarans too.'

'I know. In the dreams that's what happens.' Tucker had to strain to hear the softly spoken words. 'The children stop me firing and everyone dies. But the only one I'm interested in is you, and I can't help thinking...' The quiet voice trailed off.

'Damn. I'm sorry, Mal.' Tucker pressed a kiss to the back of Reed's neck. 'No wonder they get you so upset.'

Reed turned over, staying within the circle of Tucker's arms, until he was facing him.

'It's not just that. But I think...I wonder...' He paused, pulling back slightly so he could look at Tucker's face. 'I wonder, did I do it just becau se you were in danger? If you hadn't been on the station, could I have knowingly, willingly, destroyed a shuttle carrying thirty-seven children on a school outing?'

'Thirty-seven children and three terrorists, Malcolm. The deaths are the terrorists' fault, not yours. Once they'd taken over the shuttle everyone on board was going to die no matter what you did. By blowing up the shuttle you saved the lives of everyone on the station. Not just me—everyone. That took a lot of courage. It was an awful thing to have to do, and I'm proud of you for doing it.'

'I was only doing my job,' Reed muttered sardonically.

'Yeah, and sometimes your job sucks. But you gotta remember it's the job that sucks, not you.'

'How eloquently put!' There was sarcasm in the tone, but also now a glimmer of Reed's normal quiet humour.

'Yeah, well,' Tucker grinned. 'You do suck, but not in a bad way, if you get what I mean.'

Reed gave a small huff of laughter and Tucker was glad to feel his lover finally begin to relax in his arms.

'You're incorrigible—don't ever change. And I'm sorry for being such a pain in the arse over this.'

Tucker ran a hand slowly up and down Reed's back. 'Don't be. All the nights you've helped me deal with Lizzie's death. I reckon I owe you a few. So...you ready to try sleeping again, or d'ya want to show me just how good you suck?'

* * *

'Morning, Malcolm.' Captain Archer strolled onto the bridge and crossed to the tactical station. 'How are the upgrades going?'

As he listened to his armoury officer's report Archer took the opportunity to get a good look at the man. He knew from speaking with Tucker over breakfast that the incident with the Igaran shuttle, which had hit Reed hard, was still causing him problems. No one blamed Reed for the tragedy, but in some ways that only seemed to make things worse: the less everyone else blamed him, the more he blamed himself. His work hadn't suffered, of course, but now that Tucker had brought it to Archer's attention, the dark circles under his eyes and the tired slump of his shoulders were obvious.

Archer was all too aware of his abysmal success rate as far as friendly 'man to man' talks with the reserved Englishman were concerned, but that didn't prevent the feeling that he ought somehow to be able to help. He was Reed's captain after all; it was part of his job description.

'Good work, Lieutenant,' he said as Reed finished his report. He grasped man's shoulder in what he hoped was a supportive manner though, as always, he wasn't really sure that the contact was entirely welcome. 'You'll be wanting to try out the cannons. We'll have to see if we can find you something to blow up.'

He didn't need to feel Reed flinch to tell him just how bad his choice of words was. Quickly deciding that there was nothing he could say that wouldn't make matters worse he gave the man another awkward pat on his shoulder and retreated to the captain's chair, letting the subject drop.

His wondering what to do about his armoury officer was interrupted a short while later by T'Pol at the science station.

'Captain, I am detecting a vessel. The design would suggest it is a Xindi Insectoid ship.'

'Have they seen us?'

'Impossible to say, but they have altered their heading to a course that will intersect with ours.'

'Mr. Reed, tactical alert.' Archer stood and looked over Travis Mayweather's shoulder at the helm monitors. 'How long until they reach us?' he asked the helmsman.

'Thirty two minutes, at their present speed.'

'What size of ship is it, T'Pol?'

'It appears to be similar in size to the last Insectoid vessel we encountered.'

'We outgunned that ship, Captain,' Reed offered.

'Yes, but I'd rather avoid a fight if we can. Travis, can we outrun them?'

'Doubtful, sir. There's a system one point two light-years away with an extensive asteroid belt. We could probably give them the slip there, but even if they haven't already seen us it's unlikely we could reach it undetected.'

'Let's try it anyway. Lay in a course and go to warp five.'

They almost made it. The Insectoid ship caught up with them as they reached the edge of the asteroid field. It took a combination of Mayweather's flying skill and Reed's talent with the newly upgraded phase cannons to get them out of a tricky situation. Enterprise's hull plating took a battering, with the port plating down to twenty-three per cent by the time a direct hit to its engines disabled the Xindi ship.

Unfortunately the Xindi's last shot hit Enterprise's weakened plating, causing a feedback loop in the EPS grid. There were minor explosions and blow-outs all over the ship, including on the bridge.

'Lieutenant, the systems behind you are unstable.'

Reed heard T'Pol's warning, but he was occupied ensuring that the Xindi no longer posed a threat to Enterprise. Sparks began to fly from the panel immediately behind him.

'Mr. Reed, move!' T'Pol's voice was almost urgent.

Reed turned just as the circuits behind him exploded, blasting the panel loose. The lieutenant was directly in its path with no chance to get out of the way. The last thing he saw was the panel flying towards him, just before it hit him squarely on the side of the head.

* * *

Tucker hit the control outside sickbay, pushing into the room almost before the doors parted. The captain hadn't specified why he was wanted, but Tucker could only see one reason why he'd be called to sick bay like this when there were repairs needing his attention—Malcolm was hurt. The sight that met

his eyes—Reed, wearing the standard sickbay pyjamas, lying propped against a biobed's pillows, Phlox alongside him looking puzzled and the captain hovering at the foot of the bed—confirmed his suspicions.

'Doc?' Trip announced his presence. 'Hey, Malcolm, you okay?'

'Trip!' Captain Archer moved quickly to head off the engineer before he reached the bed, steering him in the direction of Phlox's office. 'I need to speak with you.'

Tucker dug his heels in, refusing to allow himself be deflected. 'What's up, Cap'n? Can't I just check on Malcolm first?'

'Trip, please,' Archer pressed.

'How does that man know my name?'

Tucker's jaw dropped as he goggled at Reed, and Archer took advantage of the opportunity to get him inside the office.

'Malcolm's fine, Trip,' he quickly reassured the anxious man. 'He took a blow to the head but Phlox says it's nothing serious. Problem is, he seems to have lost his memory.'

'Actually, Captain, that's not strictly correct.' Phlox followed them into his office, closing the door securely. 'Mr. Reed's memory is working perfectly, but only up to a point. That point appears to be sometime in his childhood.'

'Huh? You're sayin' he thinks he's a kid?'

'Well, I need to run some more tests but, in effect, yes.'

'But...' Tucker had been going to say 'he looks just the same', when it struck him how idiotic that was. How else would he look? He scrubbed a hand through his hair. 'So how do we fix it? You can fix it, right?'

'I'm not sure that I can, Commander.' Phlox raised a hand to halt Tucker's interjection. 'The only person who can, as you say, fix it is Mr. Reed himself.'

'Can't we just tell him? Or take him to the armoury or the bridge, see if he remembers anything?'

'Trying to force him to remember could be counter-productive,' Phlox cautioned. 'Far better to find the root cause for this regression and attempt to treat that.'

'How do we do that if we can't ask him?' Tucker demanded.

'Well, one possible explanation is that this is Mr. Reed's mind's way of dealing with an intolerable situation—some personal pressure, or work-related stress. Are you aware of anything of this nature, Commander?'

'Shit!' Tucker sank into the doctor's desk chair, looking stricken. 'Some partner I am—trying to joke him out of it instead of trying to help, makin' him talk things through.'

'Don't beat yourself up over it, Trip.' Archer squeezed the engineer's shoulder. 'He knew you were there for him. I doubt even you could have made him talk if he wasn't ready.'

'Captain?' Phlox looked from Tucker to Archer, puzzled.

'The Igaran shuttle,' Archer explained. 'Malcolm's been taking it kind of hard.'

'Ah, of course. I should have thought of that.'

'He's been having nightmares, not getting much sleep.' Tucker visibly pulled himself together before carrying on. 'Last night he told me he dreams the children stop him firing at the shuttle and the station is destroyed. He's been worrying that he somehow failed in his duty because he chose me over them—that he maybe could have done something, but he killed them to save my life.'

'Hmm,' was Phlox's only response.

'So, what happens now, Doc, if we can't do anything to jog his memory?'

'That's not what I said, Commander. There's a world of difference between trying to force him to remember and putting him in situations where his memories might surface naturally, at their own pace. If, as seems possible, this is a defence mechanism to help Mr. Reed come to terms with his actions, then I think we should let it run its course, for the time being at least. Yes?' He cocked his head on one side and beamed at Tucker and the captain. 'Now, what say we go and introduce you to young Malcolm, Commander?'

As they approached the bio-bed Liz Cutler, who had been talking to Reed, handed a medical scanner to Phlox and they exchanged a few words together quietly over the results. The brief interlude gave Tucker his first chance to look at his lover properly.

He was surprised to see that Reed did not, in fact, look 'just the same'. There was a more open, relaxed cast to his features; the grey eyes were wide with wonder and curiosity, mixed with not a little fear as they took in every thing around him. Weirdly, he actually did look like a child.

'So, Malcolm, how are you feeling?' Phlox beamed at his patient in his disconcertingly alien way.

Tucker watched as Reed blinked and tried just a little too obviously not to stare—whatever age he thought he was, it was almost certain that this Malcolm had never seen a Denobulan before.

'I'm fine, sir, thank you.'

Even his voice is different, Tucker realised, less assured and with an accent somehow more definitively English, as though it had not yet been diluted by years of working and living with Americans.

'Good, I'm glad to hear that,' Phlox continued. 'Apart from that bump on your head, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you. Do you feel up to

talking to Captain Archer and Commander Tucker?'

'Captain?' Reed turned his gaze unerringly towards Archer.

More obviously captain material, Tucker wondered, or had he just worked it out from the rank pips on their shoulders?

'Does that mean I'm on a ship? It doesn't feel as if we're at sea. How did I get here?'

'Hello, Malcolm.' Archer smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way and held out a hand, which Reed shook a little uncertainly. 'You are on my ship, yes, and you're right, we're not at sea. It's a bit complicated to explain and it would help if we knew just how much you remember about how you got here.'

'I don't remember anything.' Reed's voice trembled slightly. 'I was reading in bed until Mum came and made me put my torch away. Then I remember listening to the rain in the dark, but the storm was moving westwards so I knew it wouldn't stop Hyperion making port. Hyperion is my father's new ship. She's a destroyer. Mum was going to take us to meet him and he'd promised that I could see the gun deck. Then I woke up here,' he finished with a note of panic.

'What were you reading?'

Tucker ignored the strange look Archer shot him. He was keen to deflect Reed's fear and it was the first thing that came into his head. Reed apparently saw nothing odd in the question and Tucker got his reward as the child in his lover's body treated him to a brilliant smile.

'My new Dark Avenger comic, Danger on Dralax. But I didn't finish it because Mum made me go to sleep,' he said, his smile faltering.

'You like the Dark Avenger?' Tucker asked incredulously, remembering the Englishman's many scathing comments on his own 'comic addiction'.

'I think he's great,' was the passionate reply. 'He gets to go to different worlds and meet aliens.' Reed paused just long enough to glance at Phlox. 'My father says it's just rubbish and that the places aren't really like that, but as long as it's my own money I'm wasting, he supposes it's all right.'

Tucker found himself grinning at Reed's enthusiasm, then had to choke back a sudden wave of emotion as the excited gleam in the grey eyes reminded him painfully of previous animated discussions about phase pistols, cannons or force fields.

'Well I've got a whole heap of them on PADDs in my quarters. I could check if Danger on Dralax is there, then you could finish it, if you like?'

'Oh, thank you, Commander. I'd like that very much.'

Okay, but you got to promise me something first. My friends call me Trip and since I only loan my comic books to friends you're going to have to call me

Trip. Think you can manage that?'

'Yes, sir. Yes, Trip, I mean. Thank you.'

'So, apart from reading your comic book you don't know anything about how you got here?' Archer said, with an apologetic glance at Tucker as the excitement died in Reed's eyes and was once again replaced by the hint of fear.

'No, sir. And you said we're on a ship, but your uniform isn't from any navy I know. It's more like...' His eyes widened, excitement surfacing again.

'Oh! It's a Starfleet uniform, isn't it? Are we on a spaceship?'

He was practically begging and Archer turned aside slightly, trying not to laugh, leaving Tucker to jump in.

'Yeah, we're on a spaceship, Mal. A starship, in fact. Have you read Appointment with Destiny?' He paused for the other man's nod. 'You know how the Dark Avenger was thrown forward in time 'cause there was something wrong in the future only he could put right? Well, it's kinda like that.'

'I'm like the Dark Avenger? Cool! And I'm in the future? When? And what am I here to do?'

'Commander Tucker was just pointing out similarities, Malcolm, to help you understand the situation,' Phlox said. 'There is no indication that your presence here is for any particular purpose, and while you could certainly be said to be in the future, the year is only 2153.'

'So not 97 years,' Tucker said, winking at Reed, hoping the suggestion that only the two of them would understand the reference to the Dark Avenger story would help calm his nerves.

Apparently it worked because Reed gave him a quick grin before asking, 'What happens now? Do you know how to send me back home?'

'Not yet,' Archer said, answering the easier second part of the question, 'but we're working on it. And you can be sure we'll look after you while you're here.'

'As for what happens now,' Phlox put in, 'firstly we need to find you somewhere to live. Sickbay is hardly suitable accommodation for a healthy child. Commander, Malcolm seems to have taken to you and you have reasonably large quarters, how would you like a bunk-mate for a few days, hmm?'

'What! Are you sure that's a good idea?'

'Trip,' Archer interjected with a warning nod in Reed's direction.

Seeing the not quite successful attempt to hide disappointment, Tucker hurriedly backtracked.

'I mean, yeah, sure, I got the room but what'll he do while I'm on duty? I'm Enterprise's chief engineer,' he explained for Reed's benefit. 'I have to work a lot of the time.'

'Enterprise, is that the name of this ship? I'll be good. I could stay in your quarters and read. If you didn't mind, that is.'

'I don't think we could let you stay in Commander Tucker's quarters all day,' Archer said. 'That wouldn't be much fun, would it? Don't worry, we'll find someone to keep you company. But first, I don't know exactly what time it was when you, er, left home, but on Enterprise it's nearly 1800 hours. Getting time for dinner. Are you hungry?'

'I think so. It seems a long time since I ate.'

Yeah, breakfast probably for my Malcolm, Tucker thought, and not much then I dare say. Struck by a thought he asked, 'How old are you, Mal?'

'Nine, but I'll be ten in two months. At least I would be at home,' he added, struggling to get to grips with the concept of being in another time. 'And excuse me, but my father says that my name is Malcolm and if he'd wanted me to be called Mal then that's what he would have named me. But actually,' he said, addressing Tucker with a shy smile, 'I don't mind if you call me Mal.'

'Mal it is then,' the commander acknowledged, smiling back at him. 'And I'll make sure everyone else knows to call you Malcolm. Now I think we better see about getting you something to wear so we can go eat.'

'Good idea. I'll go with you, Trip,' Archer said. He turned to Reed. 'When Trip gets back with your clothes you can both join me in my mess for dinner. That sound okay?'

'Yes, sir. I think I am hungry now, sir.'

'Great,' Archer laughed. 'I'll make sure chef knows we've got a hungry boy to feed! See you there.'

'I won't be long, Mal,' Tucker assured him before following Archer out of sickbay.

* * *

It was a full half hour before Tucker returned to sickbay. He'd gone directly to Reed's quarters intending just to pick up some casual clothes and move them and a few toiletries to his own cabin before returning to collect Malcolm. But once there, in his lover's personal space, the enormity of what had happened hit home. He sank shakily into the desk chair and sat quietly for a good while, trying to shut the thought of what would happen if Malcolm didn't get better out of his mind.

When he made it back to sickbay Reed was sitting on the edge of his biobed swinging his legs as he chatted to Liz Cutler. He took the clothes Tucker offered him—jeans, a grey shirt and black loafers—scrambling into them without

comment. When Reed shyly turned his back on Cutler before pulling on the jeans Tucker was sufficiently in control of his feelings to be able to exchange

a wry smile with her.

Dinner was rather strained. Of the four people present only Reed seemed truly comfortable. Captain Archer adopted what Tucker guessed was meant to be a bluff, fatherly tone but which came out sounding more like a bad actor in a melodrama. Even T'Pol, who professed to have a merely academic interest in the situation, was shooting odd glances at Reed. Tucker couldn't make out whether she taking the opportunity to study how a Human child behaved or just being critical of his table manners. Conversation was stilted. The three officers talked briefly about the damage caused by the Xindi attack but didn't want to go into too much detail for fear of frightening Reed. And the other major topic of concern was obviously off limits.

Chef had served up burgers and fries, which Reed said were chips and ate with his fingers when he thought no one was looking. When his mind was on the food at all. Archer had sat him so he was facing the window and he spent a fair amount of time staring at the starscape, his eyes tracking individual stars as warp speed streaked them across the view.

Eventually, when Reed had polished off two bowls of chocolate ice cream, Tucker declared it was time for bed, reckoning 2100 hours was plenty late enough

for a nine year old.

The quartermaster had set up a cot in Tucker's quarters. It made space a bit tight, but not unmanageable. Tucker made sure the young Reed knew how to use the facilities then saw him settled in the makeshift bed with a padd containing Danger on Dralax.

'I'm sorry I've got to leave you, but I have to go check on my engines.'

'That's all right. I'll be fine.' Reed shifted uneasily against his pillows. 'Will they come back? The aliens you and the captain were talking about, the ones who damaged Enterprise?'

'I'm not going to lie to you, Mal, they might. But their ship was badly damaged. They won't be back tonight. And the sooner Enterprise is back to full strength, the less of a threat they'll be.'

Reed nodded slowly, his eyes drawn to the window, as if checking for alien enemies.

'You gonna be okay?' Tucker asked, wanting to stay, yet knowing that he had to get down to engineering and the armoury to check on repairs before meeting with the captain for a briefing in 30 minutes.

'Yes, thank you. I know you wouldn't say it was safe if it wasn't true. I'll read my comic then go to sleep. I won't be frightened because you're not here.'

'Good boy.' Tucker swallowed the lump in his throat and patted Reed on the shoulder. 'I'll try not to be too long.'

When Tucker got back Reed was fast asleep, curled up with the blanket pulled tight under his chin, the padd he'd been reading still lying alongside his pillow. Tucker moved the padd to the shelf where his comic books were stacked. Keeping the lights dim to avoid waking Reed, he got himself ready for bed. He was sorely tempted to risk pressing a kiss on his lover's exposed temple or to stroke his hair—desperate for the contact and the chance to fool himself that everything was all right. But he resolutely climbed into his own bunk and turned off the lights, turning his back on the other bed to stop himself trying to stare into the darkness for signs that Reed was himself again.

* * *

Tucker was awake first the next morning. Reed had thrown his covers partly off in the night and was lying on his back, his pyjama top pulled crookedly across his torso, his face peaceful. Tucker stepped quietly into the bathroom, shutting the door to avoid disturbing him. By the time he emerged, showered, with a towel around his waist Reed was awake and sitting cross legged on his bed.

'Morning, Mal. Sleep well?' Tucker waited anxiously, hoping his disappointment didn't show on his face when Reed's reply made it clear that there hadn't been an overnight recovery.

'Yes, thank you. Is Enterprise fixed now? Will I be able to see her engines today, and her weapons?'

'Not entirely fixed, but getting there. We need to take you to see Phlox again this morning, but I bet we can find time for a tour of the ship after that. You up for some breakfast?' At Reed's eager nod he continued, 'Get yourself washed up and dressed and we'll head over to the mess hall.'

Captain Archer had made it his business to see that everyone on board was aware of the armoury officer's condition, so there were no inappropriate greetings as they made their way through the corridors. Conversation stopped briefly as they entered the mess hall, but Reed either didn't notice or accepted that people would be curious about him. Tucker led him to the breakfast buffet as conversations restarted around them.

'So, what would you like?'

'Pancakes and bacon and syrup and eggs. And hash browns,' he added as an afterthought.

Tucker blinked at him in surprise. 'Is that what your momma gives you?'

'No,' Reed confessed. 'Mum makes me have cereal and fruit every day. Except sometimes on Sundays when we have kippers.' He screwed his face into an

grimace of childish disgust so expressive of his opinion of kippers that Tucker

was surprised into a snort of laughter. 'But this is an American ship and that's what Americans eat for breakfast,' Reed finished, in a tone that brooked no argument.

'First off, this isn't an American ship,' Tucker objected. 'Just so happens that the only Humans you've met so far are American, but Enterprise has folks from all over. And secondly, this American is having scrambled eggs, toast and a glass of milk for his breakfast. But you can have all that other stuff if you really want.'

He handed Reed a plate and helped himself to eggs, watching his charge out of the corner of his eye. Reed hesitated by a platter of crisply cooked bacon, but eventually passed it over in favour of a couple of fried eggs and a stack of pancakes, without syrup.

'You want milk or juice?' Tucker asked.

'Mum lets me have coffee at breakfast. Honestly!' he added at Tucker's doubtful look. 'But just one mug, so I don't get hyperactive.'

'One mug of coffee it is then,' Tucker said, trying to get his head around the image of a hyperactive Malcolm.

They ate sitting at a table by the window, Tucker eventually making Reed swap places with him.

'Plenty of time to stare out the window later,' he explained. 'Right now you ought to concentrate on your food. A growing boy needs his breakfast.'

* * *

In sickbay Reed perched on the edge of a biobed while Phlox examined him, the Denobulan's constant stream of explanations putting the man-child at ease.

Preliminary examination over, he said, 'Everything seems fine, Malcolm, but I'd like to run a more detailed scan which entails you lying down inside this machine.' He opened the full body scanner, pulling out its bed. 'You won't be frightened by that, will you?'

'Will this help you find out why I'm here?'

'It may indeed. It may also show us a way to get you back home again.'

'All right.' Reed slid off the biobed and climbed onto the scanner's rolling bed. 'How long will I be shut inside?' he asked, with a slightly worried look.

'About two minutes,' Phlox said.

'It's not too bad, Mal,' Tucker put in. 'Just shut your eyes and count slowly backwards from 100. That's what I usually do.'

'You've been inside it?'

'Yeah, a couple of times. It's not as bad as it looks, trust me.'

Apparently Reed did, because he lay back on the bed, closed his eyes and said, 'I'm ready now.'

'You'll hear a few clicks and buzzes, but that's perfectly normal,' Phlox said as he rolled the bed forward and activated the scan program.

As the door closed they could hear Reed's steady voice. 'One hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight...'

Tucker fidgeted while the doctor checked that the scan was running smoothly.

'Can I ask you something, Doc?'

'Of course, Commander.' Phlox checked a final readout and turned to give Tucker his full attention.

'This morning, when he was getting washed, Mal shaved himself. That can't be normal for a nine year old! Is it a sign that he's beginning to remember?'

'Not necessarily.'

'Then how come he remembers to do that when he can't remember anything else? And how come he's so...relaxed about all this? As far as he's concerned he fell asleep in his bed at home and woke up here, 22 years in the future. It doesn't seem natural that he should just accept that without getting upset or anything, does it?'

'You have to remember that nothing about this is natural. Mr. Reed has retreated to a time when presumably he felt safe in order to help him come to terms with something he found unbearably stressful. The Human mind is a complex organ and the lieutenant's mind is undoubtedly retaining those memories that allow him to be comfortable in his present situation. Shaving is one of those memories. His attachment to you is, I dare say, another.'

The scanner pinged and Phlox busied himself with the readings before pressing the door release and sliding the bed out of the machine's innards.

'There, that wasn't so bad, was it?' he beamed.

'No. I got down to 47 for the second time around though.'

'You count too quickly.' Tucker grinned at him.

Reed flashed a smile back at him. 'My father says I'm too quick for my own good, and one day I'll meet myself coming back,' he said.

'Yes, well,' Phlox said. 'I'm sure you'll both be happy to hear that your scan is clear. There is no residual damage from that bang on the head you received when you arrived here yesterday, Malcolm. I'll forward a full report to the captain, of course, Commander,' he added, with a significant look in Tucker's direction.

'That mean you're finished with us for now, Doc?' Tucker asked.

'Yes, though I think I should see Malcolm again tomorrow morning, just to be sure life in space is agreeing with him. Hmm?'

'Right you are. So, Mal, you ready to see some more of the ship?'

'Oh, yes please. I'd really love to see the gun deck. Do you call it that on a space ship?'

'The armoury. We'll get around to that, I promise. But first I have to check in with engineering. You can come with me if you like, or if you'd rather I can find someone else to stay with you while I catch up with my work.'

'I'd like to come with you, if that's all right, please. I won't be a nuisance, I promise.'

'Oh wow!' Reed stopped just inside the door to main engineering. 'Is that the warp engine?'

'Sure is. Normally she's a perfect lady and a thing of beauty, but today she's being a touch persnickety. So...' He paused to look around before hailing a crewman on the upper walkway. 'Carson, come down here, will you.' The man clattered down the metal stairs and Tucker continued. 'Malcolm, I want you to stay with Mick for a bit. I gotta concentrate on my work just now, but Mick'll show you around engineering and let you look over the engine specs. You can use the terminal in my office, use your security codes,' he said to Carson. 'Yell if you need me, but you'll be fine.'

He smiled at Reed and gave him a pat on the arm before deliberately putting him out of his mind and settling down to some serious repair work.

It was just gone 1300 hours when he entered his office, intending to pick up Malcolm for lunch, only to find it empty.

Lieutenant Hess, passing the door and seeing his puzzled look, said, 'They've gone to the mess for something to eat, sir. Lieutenant Re...er, Malcolm was hungry. I told Mick it would be okay. I hope that's all right?'

'Yeah, sure. I'll go collect Mal and send Mick back down to you. I'll be in the armoury this afternoon, if you need me. I want to let Mal spend some time there, see if...you know,' he shrugged. 'I can check on the repairs there at the same time.'

* * *

Reed was clearly excited to be visiting the armoury. Tucker tried not to hope that was a promising sign. He'd been so sure that all it would take was for the lieutenant to see his beloved armoury that he'd wanted to drag him straight there yesterday. Phlox had firmly vetoed that, concerned that too aggressive an approach would be counter-productive. Now that the time had come

Tucker was on edge, afraid of what might—or worse, might not—transpire.

The first thing they saw as the door slid open was Major Hayes crouched on one knee, aiming his side arm at the upper level.

Tucker jerked to a halt, aware of Reed behind him, clutching the back of his uniform.

'Commander.' Hayes got to his feet, pulling a small control box from a pocket just as Tucker noticed the holographic target dodging around near the high ceiling.

Relief made him snap at the MACO officer, 'Don't you read orders, Major? You put an alert on the doors if you're holding target practice in here.'

'Yes, sir. I think you'll find there is an alert posted, sir,' Hayes replied, stiffly.

'Oh.' Tucker took a step backwards to check, mentally kicking himself for being too distracted to notice. He bumped into Reed and stopped, flustered. 'My mistake. I apologise, Major.'

Reed tightened his grip on Tucker's uniform, apparently picking up on the tension. He was still behind the engineer, but leaning forward to peer around him. Hayes seemed to notice him for the first time. He relaxed fractionally, holstered his weapon and held out his hand.

'Hello, you must be Malcolm. I'm Major Hayes.'

Reed took the proffered hand reflexively. 'Are you the ordnance officer?' he asked. 'Oh, but you're not Starfleet, so you can't be, can you?'

'So I've been told,' Hayes said, dryly. 'However, I am in charge here temporarily while our armoury officer is away.' He turned to Tucker. 'Was there something I can do for you, Commander?'

'Malcolm wanted to see the armoury. We don't need to disturb you.'

Tucker had never really understood his lover's antipathy towards Major Hayes. The man was clearly not qualified to become armoury officer and his lover's obsession with being usurped by him had, if Tucker was honest, rather amused him. So his own reaction to seeing Hayes in charge of the armoury came as something of a shock. He tried to put it down to annoyance because Reed had been frightened, but there was more to it than that—a sense of betrayal that was difficult to suppress and which Hayes's faint air of amusement only made worse.

'No problem, Commander. I'll be happy to give our guest a tour of Enterprise's weaponry, if you have repairs you need to get back to.'

'It's all right. I've got an hour free.' He knew it was irrational but Tucker couldn't bring himself to leave Reed in his rival's charge.

Their standoff was interrupted unexpectedly.

'You were target shooting, weren't you? Can I have a go?' Reed asked, his eagerness evident in his voice.

'These are powerful weapons,' Hayes replied, his hand resting on the butt of his holstered sidearm. 'I don't think that would be a very good idea.'

Tucker, who had been thinking exactly the same thing, suddenly found himself wanting to take Reed's side. He was saved the trouble by Reed.

'I represent the Royal Naval families team in small arms target shooting, under fifteen years old class,' he said. 'I'm not really strong enough to handle a phase rifle, but I placed second in the handgun class last year. My father says I could be first this year, if I will only apply myself to the task. I think I could manage your weapon, Major.'

Tucker smiled to himself at Hayes's startled expression. He was becoming used to Reed's strangely stilted pronouncements and was beginning to believe that they were a true reflection of his lover as a child rather than a side effect of his current predicament.

'What'd'ya say, Major? It's not as if you're using live rounds,' he pointed out.

Hayes hesitated for a moment longer before finally saying, 'True. There's no danger of him hurting himself, or doing any damage.'

Hayes handed Reed a phase pistol and made sure he was familiar with its functions before going on to explain about the target.

'The holographic projection moves in a random pattern. There's a sliding scale of setting from one to ten that determines speed and degree of movement.

We'll start you at the slowest and see how you go. Ready?'

At Reed's eager nod he activated the target, which hovered momentarily about two metres off the ground before starting to dodge around the armoury's large open space at a considerably slower speed than when Hayes had been shooting.

Reed's first three shots missed, but of the remaining seven in the set six were hits. As the target deactivated he looked at the weapon in his hand with awe before turning towards Hayes.

'There's no particle drift!' he exclaimed. 'That's why I missed at first, because I was compensating. How did you do that?'

Hayes shrugged. 'That's nothing to do with me, I'm afraid. I just point and shoot.'

Disappointed, Reed turned the weapon over in his hands as if he could glean the answer just by looking at it.

'You have a good friend of mine to thank for that,' Tucker said. 'He sorted out the particle drift problem a couple of years ago now.'

'He must be a very clever person,' Reed said, reverently. 'The Royal Naval technicians have been trying to eliminate it for years.'

'He is. He's real good at everything he does. I just wish he were—' Tucker broke off as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Turning away from Reed, he caught sight of Hayes and was gratified to see the startled realisation as it dawned on the major that Tucker was talking about Malcolm Reed.

'I didn't know that,' Hayes admitted.

'There's a lot you don't know about him. All the stuff that makes him so damn good at his job.'

'I don't want his job, Commander, whatever he thinks. I'm not even remotely qualified.'

'Not for tactical or armoury officer. But ship's security, you're more than qualified for that.'

'I know he and I don't always see eye to eye, but that doesn't mean I don't respect his abilities. I can only repeat, I don't want his job.'

'Well perhaps you need to tell him that. I know he can be a neurotic sonovabitch, but it means a lot to him.'

'Can I have another go, please? At a higher level.'

Reed's voice cut into the tense atmosphere and Tucker shook his head, already regretting his words. His lover had enough problems at the moment without Tucker exposing his vulnerabilities to the one person on board he saw as a threat.

'Sorry, Major. Not the time nor place,' he said, closing the subject as he returned his attention to Reed.

Reed spent the rest of the afternoon in the armoury. Tucker stayed with him until Ensign Young arrived to relieve Major Hayes. Then he returned to his work leaving Young to carry out his own duties while Reed played happily on the tactical simulator.

Over dinner Reed chattered excitedly about the battles he had set up, and how he had secured Enterprise's inevitable victories. Tucker tried gamely to share his enthusiasm but his heart wasn't in it. Seeing the grey eyes alight with a familiar animated glow yet knowing that behind them was not the brilliant and focused intelligence of Lieutenant Reed, but only the mind of a child, was almost too much to bear.

'Hi, may I join you?'

Reed fell silent, smiling shyly at Hoshi Sato as she balanced a tray in one hand and a padd in the other.

'I was intending to catch up on some Denobulan dialects,' she said, waggling the padd, 'but you two looked to be having fun and I thought it might be nice to join in.'

'Yeah, sure.' Tucker stood and relieved her of the tray, making space for it on the table. 'Malcolm, this is Ensign Hoshi Sato, Enterprise's communications officer.'

Reed scrambled to his feet and pulled out a chair for her. 'It's nice to meet you, Ensign.'

'Oh please, call me Hoshi. It's nice to meet you too, Malcolm. Are you enjoying your stay on Enterprise?'

'Very much, thank you.' He dropped his formality, leaning across the table towards her as he confided, 'I saw the warp engine today, and did target shooting. And Major Hayes said my score was a lot higher than he expected. And then I made simulations so if those aliens attack again Enterprise will be able to beat them.'

'Sounds like you had a busy day. I was wondering if you'd like to spend some time with me tomorrow?' she said, revealing her real reason for joining them. 'I'm off duty in the morning and it would give you some company while Commander Tucker is working.'

Reed looked questioningly at Tucker.

'Up to you, Mal, but my people are going to be busy tomorrow and it'd beat sitting on your own with a comic book, wouldn't it?'

'What would we do?' Reed asked Sato.

'That depends. Do you like languages? I could teach you some Klingon.'

'I'm not very good with foreign languages,' Reed said, looking worried. 'Grandad tried to teach me some Latin once so I could read something out of Julius Caesar's Conquest of Gaul, but it was too difficult and anyway they had the book in English in the library.'

'That does sound rather ambitious for someone your age,' Sato agreed.

'Even in English!' Tucker put in, rolling his eyes.

'We don't have to do languages if you don't want. We can explore the ship. I bet Commander Tucker hasn't taken you to see the cargo bays, has he? There's all sorts of interesting stuff down there.'

'Just you be sure to stay out of the engineering supplies!' Tucker warned. 'We had those alien kids on board last year some time? You should'a seen the mess they made. Took my guys nearly a week to straighten it out.'

Sato laughed. 'I don't think there's any danger of Malcolm and me making as much mess as fifteen Lechia cubs. But I promise we'll stay well away from your supplies. The quartermaster's store is much more interesting. Not to mention chef's chocolate stash.'

She waggled her eyebrows at Reed who giggled back at her.

'Sounds like you two are gonna have fun. Just don't let Chef catch you!'

* * *

Mindful of Tucker's warning, Sato made sure to speak to Chef first thing in the morning. He expressed himself happy to do anything to help Reed. The man had a soft spot for the lieutenant it turned out, apparently because he never complained about the choice of food. Privately Sato thought that was probably because Reed never took much notice of what he was eating, but wisely decided not to share this theory. With Chef's conniving she set up a small cache of chocolate chip cookies, and lemonade in cargo bay two, where she and Reed could 'discover' it later.

When she called to collect Reed after breakfast she was hard pressed not to laugh at Tucker as he fussed around his injured lover like a mother hen.

'You do as Hoshi tells you, you hear? 'Cause a spaceship can be a dangerous place and I don't want to have to come get you from sick bay.'

Tucker brushed some imaginary dust off the sleeve of Reed's shirt and straightened his collar.

'I'll be good, Trip, I promise.' Reed shrugged himself away from the attentions with such a long-suffering look of childish embarrassment that even Tucker managed a grin.

'Yeah well. Just be sure you are. Comm me if you need me, Hoshi. And don't let him eat too much chocolate. See you later, Mal.' Another quick pat on Reed's arm and he was gone.

Time passed quickly as they explored the bowels of the ship. The small hydroponics section was declared 'interesting', particularly the small jewel coloured moths that rose in a cloud from a container of alien herbs; the quick look around the massive engineering store was 'cool'; while the cookies and lemonade were fun, 'like a sort of midnight feast, only during the day'. But being allowed to climb down a Jeffries tube to see the aft cannon in its housing was undoubtedly the star attraction.

Having finally persuaded Reed to leave the cannon, Sato was securing the hatch when a dull booming noise echoed through the fabric of the ship. Enterprise trembled and the lights dimmed briefly.

'What was that?' Reed yelped, looking around nervously. He staggered as a second wave of shaking caught him off balance. 'What's happening? I don't like this! Make it stop!'

Before Sato could reassure him Captain Archer's voice issued from a nearby comm panel. 'Tactical alert. Senior officers to the bridge.'

'Are we under attack?' Reed was obviously doing his best to stay calm but his eyes were dark with fear.

Sato had her orders, but there was no way she could abandon Reed in these frightening circumstances. Quickly she made up her mind.

'I think we may be, but it didn't feel like a very serious hit. I have to go to the bridge.' Reed paled and she hurried on, 'Don't worry, I'm not going to leave you. You can come with me. But you have to be good when we get there, just sit quietly and let me work. Okay?'

While she was talking she steered them both to the nearest turbolift. Another echoing rumble accompanied by more violent shaking as they were carried to the bridge meant that they arrived with Reed clinging onto her arm with a vice-like grip, his face chalk white.

Archer raised his eyebrows as he saw the two of them but accepted her apologetic shrug without comment.

Sato moved quickly to her station. Pointing to the steps alongside her console she said, 'You sit there, Malcolm. You can watch the viewscreen if you

like, but if you're frightened just shut you eyes.' Disentangling his fingers from her sleeve she gave his hair a quick ruffle before settling down to duty.

Sato didn't need the data T'Pol sent from the science station to recognise the attacking ship as a Xindi Insectoid, but she gave the Vulcan a small nod of acknowledgment before settling down to scan for comm traffic.

Xindi codes were complex and Sato pushed the general hubbub on the bridge to one side as she concentrated. She was aware of Archer giving orders to Travis Mayweather at the helm; of Ensign Young giving tactical updates; of T'pol's measured tones offering suggestions: she registered them all but didn't let them distract her.

Enterprise was holding her own, taking some damage but also inflicting it. The attacker made no attempt to contact Enterprise but from what background signals she was able to pick up Sato was able to ascertain that this was the same Xindi vessel that they had encountered two days ago. She passed this on to Archer who immediately ordered Young to concentrate weapons fire on the areas they had targeted then.

Explosions blossomed towards the rear of the Xindi ship as Young scored a direct hit with a torpedo. The ship turned for one last attack, looming large on the viewscreen as it appeared to fly straight at Enterprise with its weapons blazing.

A new sound impinged on Sato's concentration, a whimper followed by choked back sobs. Looking down she saw Reed with his knees pulled up to his chin and his face buried in his arms. After quickly checking that the Xindi really had gone and securing her station, she knelt besides him.

'It's all right, Malcolm,' she said, hugging him to her. 'They've gone. There's no more danger now.'

The terrified manchild turned to wrap his arms around her, his frame racked by gasping sobs.

'I know you're frightened, and I don't blame you, but they really are gone.' She deliberately adopted a firm tone hoping to cut through his panic before it turned to hysteria. 'Look,' she ordered, turning him towards the viewscreen. 'Just empty space. And Enterprise is fine. We're all safe now, I

promise you.'

Reed turned to her with tear-reddened eyes, his crying calmed somewhat. 'It's not fun when it's real,' he mumbled. 'Not like games in the armoury.'

'No, I know it's not. But you're on Starfleet's best ship and you know we'll do everything we can to keep you safe.'

'It was possibly unwise to bring Mr. Reed to the bridge during an attack.'

Sato bit back her irritation at T'Pol's comment and forced herself to reply more calmly than she might otherwise have done to avoid upsetting her charge even more.

'It wasn't my first choice, but we were on F deck, near the aft cannon. I couldn't leave him there alone.'

'No, no, you did the right thing, Hoshi,' Archer said, crossing to where they sat. Crouching, he addressed Reed. 'I can remember the first time I was under fire. It was very frightening, but you get used to it.'

Archer paused and Sato shot him look: 'you get used to it' was not her idea of comforting a frightened child.

'Unfortunately our mission takes us into dangerous situations,' the captain continued, 'but we're equipped to deal with them. We have Earth's most up to date weapons and, as you know from your visits to the armoury, we have simulators to practice on. We're not going to let anything happen to you, Malcolm,' Archer promised, hoping it was the truth.

Reed sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. 'If you please, sir, I don't think I like it here any more. I want to go home.'

'I want that too, Malcolm, more than you can know,' Archer assured him. 'We're all working as hard as we can to make it possible.'

Sato glanced around the bridge. People seemed embarrassed at seeing the armoury officer so upset. Even Mayweather looked uncomfortable.

'If you don't need me now, sir, maybe I should take Malcolm some place else,' she suggested.

'Good idea. Why don't you both go get some lunch. I'll let Trip know where to find you when he's free.'

* * *

They stopped off in a bathroom for Reed to wash his face and compose himself. He was still red-eyed and jumpy when they entered the mess hall, but the sight of twenty or so people eating and chatting as normal seemed to help calm him.

He insisted that he wasn't hungry, but Sato picked up a sandwich for him anyway along with her salad. She kept the conversation light as she ate, dwelling on the fun they'd had earlier in the day, and was gratified to see Reed eventually pick up the sandwich. When she announced that she was going to get dessert he declared that maybe he could manage some apple pie.

He was just scraping the last of the cream from the bowl with his finger when Tucker strode into the mess hall.

Sato surmised from the engineer's expression that Archer had told him what had happened on the bridge. She jumped up to intercept him, telling Reed she was going for drinks, wanting to reassure the engineer that everything was all right before his obvious agitation upset Reed again. Tucker's first words to her weren't encouraging.

'What the heck were you thinking of, Ensign, taking Mal to the bridge like that?'

Stung, Sato snapped back at him. 'Would you rather I left him alone down on F deck? Sir.'

'No, no. Sorry, Hoshi,' he backtracked, pulled up by her tone. 'I just...the cap'n said...'

'He's fine, Commander. Really. He got very upset during the attack, but he's much calmer now.'

'According to the cap'n Mal said he wanted to go home. That's gotta be a good sign, right?' he said, trying not to feel he was grasping at straws.

'Let's hope so. There wasn't any sign of Lieutenant Reed on the bridge today,' Sato said sadly.

Tucker had already eaten, but he snagged himself a coffee and followed Sato over to the table.

'Hey, Mal,' he said, trying to keep his voice casual. 'I hear you got to see one of the bad guys' ships for real.'

'I don't like the Xindi.' Reed frowned fiercely. 'Why do they want to hurt Enterprise?'

Tucker sighed. 'It's a long story, Mal. They attacked Earth and now we're trying to find out where they're based to stop them doing it again.'

'Will Enterprise blow them out of the sky and smash their planet to bits, like in Assault on Antari?'

'Some people think that's what we should do,' Tucker conceded. 'Did myself at one time. But actually what we really want is to stop them attacking us again and maybe the best way to do that is by talking to them. Life is more complicated than comic books and Captain Archer ain't the Dark Avenger,' he shrugged.

Reed nodded. 'My father says that jaw, jaw is better than war, war. It means it's better to talk than to fight. I think it's a strange thing for him to believe because he's in the Royal Navy and they fight. The Xindi make me want to fight too.'

'I know how you feel, Mal, but fighting's no fun. You saw that on the bridge this morning. We'll fight if we have to but your dad's right, it's better to talk.'

Reed pondered this for a few moments before hesitantly asking, 'Do you think the Xindi have anything to do with me being here?'

'We'll just have to wait and see. When the time comes I think you'll know why you're here, an' hopefully that'll show you the way home,' he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. 'Meantime I've gotta get back to engineering. Want to come with me?'

Once in engineering Tucker settled Reed on the steps to the warp reactor with a games padd before climbing up onto the platform to run diagnostics. An hour later, as he stretched to ease the tension in his shoulders, he noticed that Reed had abandoned the padd and was staring into space chewing at a thumbnail.

'You okay, Mal?'

Reed jumped slightly.

'What are they like?' he asked, worry evident in his voice.

'What are who like?'

'Those people who attacked us. The Xindi.'

Tucker quickly checked the readouts on his current diagnostic and flicked a couple of switches before moving to sit on the step beside Reed.

'There are different species of Xindi, five, we've been told. We don't really know what they're like because we haven't yet gotten a chance to talk to

them. The ones we tangled with today are Insectoids. They evolved from insects, the same as we evolved from mammals.'

'Cool! Do they have six legs like Earth insects?'

'Yeah.' Tucker shuddered. 'Big ugly bugs. Man-sized insects: my worst nightmare.'

'Really? I like insects.'

'You do? I didn't know that!' The comment slipped out in surprise, but Reed didn't seem to think it strange.

'My father really loves them. He collects them. I bet he's never seen a man-sized one though. Two years ago he gave me an ant farm for my birthday. You could watch them through the glass, see their tunnels and the eggs and everything. I really liked it, but it got knocked over when Maddy and me were playing and the ants all escaped and went all over the house. Mum was furious!' His face lit up with a mischievous grin, which faded as he continued,

'But then she wouldn't let me keep any more insects. Not even look after Father's stick insects while he was away.'

'I'm with your mom there,' Tucker said with a grimace. 'A house full of ants is something I could live without.'

Reed glanced speculatively at his companion before saying, 'My father says no rational person is afraid of insects.'

'Your father has far too much to say for himself,' Tucker muttered, scowling. 'He sounds like a barrel of laughs.'

'Yes, he is,' Reed agreed, Tucker's irony passing straight over his nine-year-old head. 'He's great.'

'He is?' The shocked response slipped out involuntarily. Nothing his partner had ever said about his father had led Tucker to think he even liked the man, let alone thought he was 'great'.

'Oh yes. He takes me and Maddy boating and swimming.'

'You like swimming?' Yet another surprise. He felt like a voyeur spying on Reed's past, but couldn't resist the temptation to learn more.

'It's all right,' was the offhand response. 'Mum said we had to learn if we wanted to go out on the boat. Maddy's really good. Maddy's my sister,' he explained. 'She's only just seven. My father says she swims like a fish and will be a credit to the Royal Navy one day. But I can do a length now without stopping.'

Against his better judgement, Tucker asked, 'Do you want to join the navy?'

'No. I do like the weapons and Granddad says he thinks I could make a good ordnance officer one day, but I don't really like being at sea.' He hung his head, mumbling so that Tucker had to strain to hear as he confided, 'I get seasick. My father says I could get over it if I put my mind to it. But I do try, really I do.' He sounded close to tears, but before Tucker could react he straightened up, a familiar stubborn cast to his features. 'Anyway I want to go into space like the Dark Avenger and blow up the Xindi! My father says that's just a phase and that I'll grow out of it if they leave me alone. But I won't,' he finished mulishly.

Tucker smiled wryly. He pitied Reed senior trying to change his son's mind once it was made up.

They were interrupted by the sudden scrabbling of claws on metal deck plates. Reed leaped to his feet, tension evident in his every line, only relaxing as a small white and brown dog bounced around the corner.

'Oh, it's a dog! Can I stroke it? Will it bite?'

The dog hopped up the steps to sit by their feet, tail wagging, as Captain Archer hove into view.

'His name's Porthos,' Archer said, 'and he'd love you to pet him. And don't worry, he won't bite.'

'How come there's a dog on a spaceship?' Reed asked as he cautiously put out a hand, giggling when Porthos licked it.

'He's my pet,' Archer explained. 'It didn't seem fair to leave him behind on Earth, so I brought him with me. Captain's privilege,' he grinned. 'I would have introduced you earlier but I wasn't sure if you liked dogs.' The armoury officer had never shown any antipathy towards Porthos, except when Archer insisted on taking the dog on away missions, but neither had he shown any enthusiasm.

'I think I like him. The only dog I've really met before is my friend Alan's. He's a German shepherd and he's very big and likes to pant in your face. Porthos is nicer.'

'I had a dog once that liked to do that,' Tucker smiled. 'Boy did his breath stink!' He turned to Archer and suggested, 'Maybe the two of you can play with Porthos for a bit while I get some work done?'

'I think we can manage that. How about it, Malcolm?' he asked, biting his lip at the sight of his starchy armoury officer on all fours nose to nose with his dog. 'You up for playing some fetch?'

* * *

It was obvious Reed enjoyed his time playing with Porthos: he was still chattering happily about it after dinner as Tucker saw him settled in bed. For

his part, Tucker headed back to engineering, happy that Malcolm had found something to take his mind off the Xindi.

When Tucker returned to his quarters shortly after midnight Reed was snoring gently. Only the blanket trailing on the floor suggested that maybe his sleep hadn't been entirely undisturbed. Tucker paid a quick visit to the bathroom before stripping down to his blues and climbing tiredly into bed. He'd put in some long hours of physical work on the engines and that, together with his ever-present worry over Malcolm, had left him exhausted. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

He clasped the arm curled around his waist, snuggling into the warmth of the body behind him. His flesh quickened to the familiar touch and smell, even though he knew he was dreaming.

'Shit! Oh shit!' Tucker woke suddenly, abruptly aware that far from dreaming he was held fast in the strong embrace of his lover. Aware too of his

body's increasingly insistent reaction.

Extracting himself from Reed's hold with more haste than care he pushed himself as far away from the other man as possible in the narrow bunk.

Reed stirred. 'What?' he mumbled. 'What's wrong?'

Tucker sucked in a breath, almost undone by the sight of his lover's sleep-softened visage and the husky half-awake question.

'What are you doin' here, Malcolm?' he demanded harshly, oblivious to the hurt in the other man's expression.

'I had a dream about the Xindi and I was scared. I thought you'd keep me safe.' Reed said uncertainly. 'Did I do something wrong?'

'You can't be in bed with me, Mal.' Tucker scrubbed a hand across his face, aware that Reed was getting upset.

'Why not?'

'It's...I...you just can't. There isn't room,' he finished lamely.

'Yes there is. We just have to lie really close together.' Reed reached out to pull Tucker back down besides him.

'No! You mustn't do that, Mal.' Reed's expression was rapidly settling into a sullen glower. Trying to make amends Tucker continued, 'I'm sorry. I just can't sleep like that.'

'You don't want to stop me being scared,' Reed accused. 'You don't care if the Xindi get me.'

'That's not true! Look, why don't you stay here and I'll sleep on the cot?' He eyed his robe, hanging out of reach on his closet door, wondering how he could change beds without his physical reaction to Reed's closeness becoming obvious.

'No. You're not my friend any more. I'm going back to my own bed.'

Reed slowly climbed off the bunk, his subdued demeanour and the unhappy slump to his shoulders almost enough to change Tucker's mind.

'Don't say that, Mal. I'm still with you. You'll still be safe.'

'Yeah.' Reed didn't sound convinced. He pulled his blanket up to his chin and threw a last accusing glare at Tucker before resolutely turning his back on him and burying himself under the covers.

Tucker sighed.

'G'night, Mal.'

There was no response.

* * *

Archer raised an eyebrow as Tucker entered the command centre alone. They'd okayed it with Phlox the previous evening that Reed should attend briefings in the hope they might help reawaken his memories.

'No Malcolm?'

'He had breakfast with Hoshi this morning. I expect she'll bring him.'

'Trip?' At the engineer's puzzled look he elaborated, 'Is something wrong?'

'We had a...disagreement last night.'

'Trip, he's a child, you have to-'

'No. You don't...it's not...he...I'

'You know, you're not making much sense here,' Archer pointed out as his friend trailed off.

'Last night Mal got into bed with me,' Tucker stated baldly. 'He had a dream and got scared. I was asleep. When I woke he was wrapped around me like...like...' He turned away from Archer, clenching his fists. 'It was like the old Mal, and I...but I couldn't...'

'Trip, I'm sorry.' Archer gripped his arm, offering comfort.

'Anyway. I woke up and I kinda snapped at him and now he's paying me back by sulking.'

'He'll soon get over it. Kids do.'

Tucker snorted. 'This is Malcolm we're talking about. Kid or not, he knows how to sulk!'

Their conversation was cut short as Sato arrived with Reed who greeted the captain politely but pointedly ignored Tucker.

Under cover of Mayweather and T'Pol's arrival Archer leaned towards Tucker and said, 'I see what you mean.'

Tucker just shrugged.

Archer got the briefing underway. There was a lot to discuss: engineering repairs were going well although the warp engine was still restricted to a maximum of warp 3.5; weapons were all online, including the port cannon that had been damaged in the last attack; T'Pol reported that sub-space distortions were still hindered their tracking of the Xindi raider. On the plus side, those same distortions probably also prevented their attacker from calling for reinforcements.

At first Reed seemed interested in what was going on. He was facinated by the displays on the large screen and stood watching them, head tilted slightly to one side, hands clasped behind his back. Archer found himself forgetting momentarily that this wasn't his armoury officer, having to stop himself asking for an opinion. But as the briefing progressed it was clear that Reed was getting bored. He wandered around the small room staring at the various displays, running his fingers along the edges of the control panels.

Tucker watched out of the corner of his eye, almost sure that Reed was aware of the scrutiny. This was confirmed when Reed reached out towards one of the control switches, stopping short of activating it but swinging round as Tucker opened his mouth to stop him.

'I wasn't going to touch it!'

There was a gleam of calculated triumph in Reed's eyes that really riled Tucker.

'Then stop pretending,' he snapped. 'It ain't clever and it ain't funny.'

'Malcolm, why don't you sit over here, where you can watch on this monitor?' Sato frowned a warning at Tucker as she guided Reed to a seat at one side of the room. 'See, this screen shows what we're talking about and this one here shows what's on the main bridge viewscreen.'

Reed sat reluctantly. 'Can I press these buttons?'

'No,' Sato told him. 'If you do you may damage something, and you wouldn't want to do that, would you?'

'Okay,' he conceded. 'Since you say so.'

'Good boy.' She didn't let Reed see any reaction to his childish manipulations but rolled her eyes sympathetically at Tucker as she turned back to the briefing, pleased to see him smile briefly in acknowledgement of her help.

Reed's air of studied nonchalance as he sat quietly where Sato had put him was almost comical enough to calm Tucker's temper. But soon a new irritation impinged on his consciousness—a wet sucking, slurping sound. Finally, unable to stand it any more, he turned to see Reed, two fingers of his left hand hooked over his front teeth, sucking on them as he stared vacantly into space.

Once he realised that Tucker had noticed him he stepped up the slurping, using his tongue to coat his fingers in saliva.

'Malcolm, stop that!'

The only response was a glare.

Tucker crossed the room in two strides. Grabbing Reed's arm, he yanked his fingers from his mouth.

'I said, stop it.'

'You're hurting my arm.'

As Tucker released him, Reed slowly wiped his wet fingers across the front of his shirt, scowling.

'It looks and sounds disgusting. An' you'll pull your teeth crooked.'

'That's what Mum says,' Reed said, sulkily, watching Tucker from under his lashes as he put his fingers back in his mouth.

Tucker looked about to explode, but before he could say or do anything Travis Mayweather joined the conversation.

'Hey, my Mom used to tell me that too,' he said. 'Not sure that it's true though.' He smiled broadly, displaying two rows of perfectly aligned teeth.

Reed eyed him cautiously, as if calculating which side he was on in his and Tucker's battle of wills.

'I was thinking, Captain,' Mayweather continued, 'If you don't need me any more, the scheduled flight system check on the shuttlepods is due. Maybe Malcolm would like to come with me. How about it, Commander? He could help me

run the helm simulations.'

Archer jumped in before Tucker could veto the idea. 'Good idea, Travis. What do you say, Malcolm, are you willing to help Ensign Mayweather?'

'I can really help?' He was clearly torn between the temptation of the shuttlepods and his desire to stay and annoy Tucker.

'Yeah. Takes two to run the simulations properly,' Mayweather said, not entirely untruthfully. 'If you help me it means we don't have to take someone else away from their duty.'

The lure of helm simulations won out and Reed went happily with Mayweather, smirking at Tucker as he left the room, fingers still in his mouth.

As the door shut behind them Tucker let out an explosive breath.

'I'm sorry. I shouldn't of let him get to me like that.'

'Mr. Reed appeared to be deliberately trying to annoy you,' T'Pol said. 'My experience of Human children is limited, but I believe his behaviour would indicate that you have done something to upset him.'

'Yeah, well, if this is the way he behaved anytime he was upset, I'm beginning to have sympathy for his parents!'

Archer laughed. 'He'll get over it, Trip. Not even Malcolm can sulk for ever.' He grasped Tucker's shoulder then continued, 'Let's get back to work. You wanted to show me something in engineering?'

* * *

Away from Tucker, Reed was a different person. He chatted happily to Mayweather while the ensign set up and ran his checks, eagerly and conscientiously doing whatever he was asked. Mayweather did attempt to find out what was wrong between Reed and Tucker, figuring that if he had some idea of what the problem was he might be able to help put things right. But the only answer he could prise out of Reed—that Tucker wanted the Xindi to 'get' Reed—was so outrageous that he gave up.

A couple of hours later, the flight checks complete, they were en route to sickbay for Reed's daily check-up when a tremor shook the deck plating and the tactical alert alarms went off, followed by the voice of Ensign Young, on duty in Reed's place, over the comm.

'Intruder alert. Security to the bridge and shuttle bay. All hands, secure essential systems. Repeat, this is an intruder alert.'

The security announcement was followed by a message from the captain. 'Be aware there are at least three Xindi Insectoids on board Enterprise. Non-essential personnel stay out of the corridors. Be careful, people.'

Thanking whatever gods took care of children and armoury officers that they had left the shuttle bay before the attack, Mayweather grabbed hold of Reed and ran him the rest of the way to sickbay.

'Doctor,' he called, one hand on the door stopping it closing behind him. 'Can I leave Malcolm with you? I have to get to the bridge.'

'Yes, of course, Ensign.' Phlox bustled out of his office and, realising that Mayweather had already gone, said, 'He was in a hurry. I was just about to feed my creatures, Malcolm. Perhaps you'd like to help, hmm?'

Reed didn't move from where Mayweather had left him, just inside the door.

'There are Xindi on the ship,' he said, his face pale and his voice trembling a little.

'Yes. I doubt they'll be interested in sick bay, but as an extra precaution we can lock the door, see?'

Reed watched closely as the doctor activated the lock, then Phlox put an arm across the other man's shoulders and gently shepherded him to the counter where a series of small cages sat.

'Trip is scared of insects.'

Phlox was busy with a small box and so missed Reed's worried glance towards the door.

'Yes, but you're not are you, Malcolm? Here.' He held out the box, which was full of what looked like dead crickets. 'Why don't you give one of these to my Oolian shrew?'

Reed took an insect from the box, holding it up to inspect it more closely.

'Don't hold it too long,' Phlox said, his beaming smile at odds with the warning tone. 'The heat of your hand will wake it.'

Reed hastily dropped the insect into the cage Phlox indicated, watching intrigued as it tried to climb onto a leaf before a sudden rustle in the foliage

and a quick glimpse of blue fur signalled its demise.

'And two more in here. That's right, just drop them on the surface. My, we are hungry today,' he said as both the creatures were quickly sucked under the sand. 'Blood worms,' he explained. 'Useful but very secretive.'

Together they worked their way along the line of cages feeding the various occupants, Phlox pleased to note that Reed seemed calmer. Enterprise was not under fire and in the seclusion of sickbay it was easy to forget that anything was wrong. An urgent comm message brought the reality of the situation crashing back.

'Crewman Namura to sickbay, medical emergency!'

'Phlox here, crewman. What is your location and the nature of the emergency?'

'E deck, section two zero alpha, aft of the shuttle bay. We have two men down from Xindi weapon fire. One looks bad.'

'I'll be right there.'

Phlox picked up a silver equipment case and headed for the door, talking to Reed as he went.

'Malcolm, I have to go out. You'll be quite safe here. I'll lock the door after me and I'll be back as soon as I can. Understand?'

Reed said nothing but nodded. He looked frightened at the prospect of being left alone, but with patients waiting for him there was nothing else Phlox could do.

* * *

Major Hayes jogged along the corridor, light on his feet and alert for any sign of danger. There had been a skirmish near the shuttle bay—over before he could get there—and now the intruders were concentrated on D deck, apparently trying to reach engineering. Numbers were vague, but it was clear that there were more Xindi on board than had first been thought: while they had been concentrating on the shuttle bay another incursion had occurred via a docking port on B deck.

Not for the first time Hayes cursed the Starfleet policy that prevented his MACOs keeping their weapons in their quarters. Lieutenant Reed had at least insisted that weapons lockers were situated at strategic points throughout the ship—give the man credit for that. Unfortunately two of those strategic points were the shuttle bay and engineering, both out of reach at present. He had his sidearm—regulations be damned—but it wouldn't stop an Insectoid. The nearest supply of the weapons he needed—a phase rifle, stun grenades and anything else he could carry that might be effective—was the armoury.

His route was circuitous—up two decks to get past engineering without falling foul of any Xindi, back down to D deck, and now forward to a Jeffries tube he knew would give him direct access to F deck near the upper level of the armoury.

As he rounded a corner near the junior officers' quarters, a dark shape darted into the shadow thrown by a bulkhead.

Hayes flung himself against the wall, weapon in hand and heart in mouth: cover was non-existent and there was nowhere for him to go.

'Don't hurt me, please.'

The voice took him completely by surprise and, fuelled by adrenaline, he responded forcefully.

'Reed, is that you? Get out here where I can see you.'

He kept his weapon trained on Reed as he emerged from his hiding place, waving him out into the middle of the corridor before moving to check the man was alone.

'What the hell are you doing here?' he demanded harshly.

'Going to see Trip.' Reed was obviously frightened but he answered Hayes with a determination that said he wouldn't easily be deflected from his purpose. 'Trip's scared of the insects. I can shoot better than him so I'm going to protect him.'

'You should be in your quarters. I'm going to find a cabin here and lock you in.'

'Phlox locked me in sickbay, but I got out. I need to find Trip.'

'Well you can't. There are six Xindi on board and they're between here and engineering.'

'I have to find Trip,' Reed insisted. 'I have to protect him from the insects. And I have to tell him I didn't mean it when I said he wasn't my friend any more.'

'I don't have time to waste arguing with you. I'm going to lock you in one of these cabins and you're going to stay there. Understand?'

'I understand. But I'm not going to stay here. I'm going to protect Trip.'

Hayes toyed with the idea of just locking Reed in a cabin and forgetting about him. He couldn't help it if after he left the man escaped to continue his mad jaunt to engineering. On the other hand, if he did that Reed would most likely end up dead. His conscience—not to mention the knowledge of what the captain and Commander Tucker, would do to him if they ever discovered he'd abandoned the armoury officer to his fate—was enough to give him second thoughts.

'I'm not going to leave you to wander about the ship on your own. It's not safe. Trip wouldn't want you to do it,' he added, in an attempt to give extra weight to his case.

'I won't stay here,' Reed said stubbornly.

'Fine,' Hayes snapped. 'In that case, you're coming with me.'

'To engineering?'

'No. To the armoury. There's no point in rushing to engineering unarmed, is there? Now come on.' He spun Reed around and pushed him in the right direction.

'When I'm armed, I'm going to protect Trip.'

'Yeah, sure, whatever.' Hayes hustled him along, wondering what the hell Tucker saw in him: even as a child he was an anally obsessive pain in the ass.

They reached F deck without incident, Hayes climbing out of the Jeffries tube and scouting as far as the junction with the main corridor before returning

for Reed. At the door to the armoury Hayes again made Reed stay back as he slipped onto the upper walkway and checked the area was safe. Satisfied, he called the other man in and locked the door behind him.

'To keep the Xindi out, not you in,' he explained when Reed looked ready to object.

Without waiting for a response Hayes slid down the metal stair to the lower level and headed for the main tactical control station, pulling up information on the ship-wide situation. Reed made a less flamboyant descent and went over to the weapons locker, frustrated to find he couldn't open it.

'The weapons store is locked,' he announced.

'Blame our security obsessed armoury officer for that,' Hayes replied, mentally acknowledging the unfairness of the comment. There wouldn't be much point in having a weapons store if it wasn't kept locked.

'Can you open it, please?'

Hayes rolled his eyes. 'I'm busy. When I find out how many Xindi there are and their location, then we'll arm ourselves.'

'You can see the Xindi on that?' Reed moved to Hayes' side and peered at the display. 'Is that engineering?' At the major's nod he asked, 'Which of those lights are the Xindi?'

'These green ones, see, forward of engineering. They seem to be retreating towards the shuttle bay.'

'I thought you said there were six Xindi. There are only five lights.'

'I know.' Hayes kept his eyes on the screen as he talked, scanning the ship from stern to stem. 'It's possible one was killed earlier,' he said, more for Reed's benefit than because he believed it. The MACOs and security personnel involved in the skirmish outside the shuttle bay hadn't been equipped to kill an Insectoid. The skirmish had ended, true, but only because the Xindi had moved on, not because they'd been defeated.

'Why is there a green light there?' Reed pointed at the screen, the fear in his voice suggesting he'd worked the answer out for himself.

'Damn!' Hayes looked from the tell-tale green light on the screen to the armoury doors—the unlocked main doors that he couldn't possibly reach in time.

He turned to Reed, gripping his arm hard in an effort to convey his urgency. 'I want you to hide. Quickly. Get behind the torpedo racks and don't come out whatever happens.'

'Why, what's...'

'Don't argue, Malcolm, there's no time. Hide. Now!'

He pushed Reed away roughly, sparing a second to check that his instructions were being followed, before crouching down behind the torpedo launcher farthest from the door, his pistol in his hand. He waited for the Xindi that the scanner had shown heading their way, cursing himself for not rearming before running the scans. He knew that a MACO sidearm would not stop an Insectoid, but with luck he could at least stop the Xindi finding Reed—provided the man did what Hayes said for once in his life and stayed out of sight.

The door slid open. Hayes had no way of knowing whether or not the Xindi had scanned the room before entering—if it had they were both doomed anyway—but working on the principal that the best method of defence is attack, he fired as soon as he had a clear shot.

His shot was bang on target: he hit not the Xindi itself but its weapon, sending it spinning out of the Insectoid's grasp.

The creature hissed, casting around searching the deck for its weapon, not realising that it had slid under the foremost rack of photon torpedoes. Hayes closed his eyes briefly, thanking the gods for that one small piece of good fortune, before firing again at the Xindi. His main aim now was to keep the creature distracted. He had no expectation of killing or even disabling it, but there was at least a faint hope that whoever was at the bridge tactical station might notice weapons fire in the armoury and send help before it was too late.

That hope died as the Insectoid crossed the armoury in a loping run and swung at him with two of its other four limbs. Pain lanced across his chest as

he fired at almost point blank range, and he found himself bizarrely wondering if he'd been hit by arms or legs.

The Insectoid staggered, knocked off balance by the force of the shot. There didn't appear to be any damage to its exoskeleton but it gave a grating staccato cry before rearing up threateningly and spitting a thin stream of liquid at him. Hayes screamed as the fluid burned through his uniform and into

the flesh of his shoulder and upper arm.

When the expected killer blow failed to fall Hayes opened his eyes, surprised to realise he had closed them. The Insectoid still loomed over him where he lay, its limbs wavering, almost as if it was unsure of its next move. What he saw behind the Insectoid made his blood run cold.

Reed was lying full length on the floor, one arm under the torpedo rack, presumably fishing for the Xindi's lost weapon. A hiss from the Xindi made Reed turn his head and Hayes could see his eyes were wide with fear. A flash of triumph crossed his chalk white face as his hand obviously found what it was searching for, rapidly replaced by terror as the gun knocked against the torpedo rack and the Xindi, alerted by the noise, turned towards him.

Reed and the Xindi both froze, staring at one another.

Taking advantage of the Xindi's distraction Hayes launched himself at it, knocking it to the ground, at the same time shouting, 'Shoot it, Reed!

Either the shout or the sight of the Insectoid moving towards him on all six legs galvanised Reed into action. Scrambling to his feet, he swung the bulky weapon to face the Xindi, his hands fumbling over the controls.

Hayes was aware that Reed the armoury officer knew how to fire an Insectoid weapon and he found himself, not for the first time since entering the Expanse, praying to gods he wasn't sure he believed in, that muscle memory, instinct, or just plain luck would guide the man's hands now.

Reed was shaking so much that his first shot was wide by nearly a metre, but the second was right on target. Because of its posture the Xindi took the full force of the shot in its face. Its head virtually disintegrated, leaving its body thrashing wildly in its death throes on the deck.

Hayes found the sight disturbing. Reed, his complexion now flushed with adrenaline, stared at it wide eyed for a moment before turning away to throw up.

Hayes let him finish before speaking, concentrating on trying to remain conscious.

'Malcolm.' There was no reaction. He cradled his burned arm against his chest, hoping the pain would help keep him conscious. 'Malcolm,' he tried again, 'I need you to get help.'

Reed looked at him blankly, the Xindi weapon still clutched in his hands.

'Malcolm. Reed! Use the comm and get us some help here.'

Reed's eyes slid off him and focused once more on what was left of the Insectoid.

Acknowledging that he wasn't getting through to Reed, Hayes half crawled, half dragged himself over to the tactical control station and the nearest comm point.

'Hayes to the bridge.'

'Young here. Are you all right, Major? We were reading weapon fire from your location.'

About fucking time, Hayes thought, fighting back a wave of nausea that threatened to drag him down into oblivion. Lieutenant Reed would skin you alive for not checking sooner.

'No. We have one dead Xindi and one half dead MACO here.' He paused to clear his head before continuing, 'If Commander Tucker is available he might want to get down here.'

'Major.' The captain's voice replaced Ensign Young's, concern evident in its tone. 'What's your situation?'

'The armoury is secure, Captain,' he gasped painfully. 'Lieutenant Reed killed the Xindi, but I think he's in shock. He's armed and scared. There's no saying how he might react.'

'Stand by, Major, I'll get Trip down there.'

'You might want to send the doctor too,' he managed to say, before finally succumbing to unconsciousness.

* * *

The main armoury doors slid open and Tucker stepped cautiously inside. Normally he'd feel foolish creeping around the ship with two security crewmen and a MACO at his back, but the Xindi attack on engineering had left him shaken enough to welcome their presence. He moved far enough forward to allow the doors to close behind his escort.

'Malcolm?' Tucker kept his voice calm, despite the scene before him: Major Hayes was sprawled unconscious by the tactical station; there was a headless Xindi Insectoid in a slowly spreading pool of viscous liquid only a few metres from where he was standing; and then there was Malcolm.

'Malcolm,' he said again, stopping as his lover turned to face him, his expression a blank, wide-eyed stare and his hands lifting to train the Xindi weapon he was holding at Tucker's heart.

Tucker was aware of his 'minders' spreading our behind him, bringing their weapons to bear, and he waved a hand hoping they understood, never taking his eyes off Reed's face.

'Malcolm, it's me, Trip.'

'Trip?' Reed's eyes seemed to for the first time focus on Tucker.

Encouraged, the engineer took a step forward, ignoring the warning 'Sir' from the MACO corporal. 'You want to point that someplace else?' he said, indicating the Xindi weapon that Reed was holding as if it were a lifeline.

Reed blinked and looked down at the gun in his hands without changing its aim. 'Trip?' he said again. 'What the hell's going on?'

'Mal?' Tucker fought down burgeoning excitement and forced himself to keep his voice calm. Not once since this nightmare started had he heard Malcolm cuss, and there was something about his attitude—he was confused, sure, dazed even, but no way did he look like a frightened child. 'How old are you?'

'What?' Reed's bafflement was clear as he looked from Tucker to the armed personnel behind him.

'I know,' Tucker pressed. 'Just humour me, okay? How old are you?'

Reed sighed, a very familiar exasperated sigh that made Tucker's heart leap. 'Thirty one,' he said. 'Now will one of you please tell me what's going on?'

'Put the gun down, Mal.'

Reed followed Tucker's pointing finger, seeming surprised to see the weapon he was holding. Automatically he checked it was safe then let it drop to hang from one hand.

'How did-' his question was abruptly cut off as Tucker wrapped his arms around him in a crushing hug.

Tucker was vaguely aware of one of the security crewmen rushing over to Major Hayes while the other called for the Phlox, but he was too dizzy with relief to do anything other than hold tightly onto Malcolm.

* * *

'Doc?'

Tucker approached the biobed nervously. Reed had been pretty well out of it by the time they got him to sickbay. True, he had known how old he was, but he had been badly shaken and confused, and physically so weak that Tucker had ended up supporting most of his weight as they walked. Phlox had been busy

with Major Hayes, who was presumably now occupying the curtained off biobed two up from Reed's, and Tucker was forced to leave Reed with Crewman Cutler, returning to engineering with no real assurance that all was well. That had been nearly three hours ago. Now Phlox and Archer were once again standing by the lieutenant's bed in an unsettling reflection of his initial injury.

'Ah, Commander, come to check up on Lieutenant Reed?'

Phlox stepped back from the bed, giving Tucker his first clear view of Reed. He was lying, propped up against pillows with his eyes closed, looking unusually pale and drawn but as Tucker approached he opened his eyes and smiled

tiredly at him.

'Trip.'

Tucker's stride faltered and he ducked his head, embarrassed by the sudden rush of emotions as the universe settled back into its rightful place around him, the depth of feeling in Reed's eyes and voice leaving him in no doubt that this was his lover again.

'Hey.'

It wasn't very eloquent but Reed didn't seem to mind, reaching out catch hold of Tucker's hand.

'Hey, yourself,' he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in the familiar half smile. 'You look as bad as I feel.'

Tucker was surprised to realise that his legs were shaking badly and he was grateful to sink into the chair that Archer pushed towards him with the command, 'Sit down, Trip, before you fall down.'

'Is Mal okay now, Doc?' In spite of the evidence before him he needed to hear it said.

'Yes. Although the experience has taken its toll physically. I want to keep him overnight for observation, just to be sure.'

Reed's audible long-suffering sigh was enough to make Tucker laugh, and if there was an edge of hysteria to his amusement everyone was too polite to mention it.

'The captain has just been explaining the situation to Mr. Reed,' Phlox said. 'Perhaps you'd like to fill in some of the details for him, hmm?'

'I'll leave you guys to talk,' Archer said. 'I have to get back. We don't yet know why the Xindi left. They could still be in the area.'

'Actually, Captain, I have a theory about that,' Phlox said. 'I have conducted a preliminary examination of the Insectoid Mr. Reed killed and it appears that its insect origins may exert a stronger influence on its behaviour

than we first thought. There is some evidence of linked neural pathways. Very rudimentary, even compared to Earth insects, and it's difficult to be sure with the degree of damage, but if the dead Insectoid was their leader it could be that its death acted as a signal to break off the attack. I may be better able to formulate a hypothesis after a full post mortem. I'll keep you informed.'

'You do that,' Archer said. 'I'm very happy to have my tactical officer back, lieutenant.' The words were addressed to Reed but Archer's hand gripped Tucker's shoulder as he spoke, 'Take an hour, Trip, engineering can manage without you for that long. Malcolm's right, you look like hell.' With a nod in Reed's direction, the captain left.

'Please stay as long as you wish, Commander,' Phlox said. 'You've been under considerable stress yourself. There are bound to be after effects.'

With that, the doctor left the two of them alone, disappearing into his office with a rare display of tact.

Tucker was the first to break the silence. 'I'm sorry.'

' _You're_ sorry? What for?' Reed struggled to sit up and Tucker leaped to his feet to help, rearranging the pillows and blanket. 'Stop it, Trip. I'm fine, the pillows are fine.' Tucker stopped what he was doing but didn't resume his seat, electing instead to stand by the bed, once again holding Reed's hand.

'For not being there for you, over the Igaren shuttle business,' he confessed.

'Don't be an idiot. You were there for me. I'm just...not good at talking. You know that. I'm the one who should be saying sorry.'

'But-'

'Let's just agree that we're both sorry,' Reed interrupted. 'Now sit down and tell me what kind of fool I've been making of myself for the last four days.'

Tucker sat. 'How much do you remember?'

'The Xindi attack, T'Pol saying something about the circuits behind me. Then I was in the armoury with two of my own men aiming phase pistols at me. The captain and Phlox told me I got hit on the head and woke up thinking I was nine years old. That's it.'

'Yeah, that about covers it.'

'Trip.'

Tucker ignored the warning in Reed's voice. 'Well it does. The last four days you've been you, but as a kid.' He looked at Reed, a calculating gleam in his eye.

'If you're thinking about saying I made a 'cute kid', don't!'

'Hey, you did, in lots of ways.'

'Thank you. That makes it all worth while.'

Tucker laughed. 'You were a clever kid. Happy too.' He hesitated then said, 'You seemed to think a lot of your father.'

Reed sighed. 'Nine years old. He was a role model in many ways, just not the way he really wanted. He thought I'd grow out of everything he disapproved of. Or have it forced out of me at school. Just after my tenth birthday, they sent me home to school in England. Up to then Mum, Maddy and I had travelled around after my father, going wherever he was posted. At ten I was deemed ready to be trained in the Reed tradition.'

Reed fell silent. When it became clear he wasn't going to continue, Tucker said, 'It didn't work though, the training?'

'We're both strong willed. Stubborn,' he conceded at Tucker's raised eyebrows. 'We didn't discuss our differences, we just laid out our battle lines and stuck to our guns.' He shrugged. 'It's all water under the bridge. We...understand each other's positions now. Not peace, but an armed truce at least.'

Tucker reflected on his own upbringing, his happy family home and parents who supported whatever he wanted to do. True his dad had wanted him to be an engineer, but if Trip had chosen a different path he knew it wouldn't have caused the sort of rift that Malcolm had been forced to live with. Impulsively

he lifted the hand he was holding a planted a kiss on the knuckles.

'What was that for?' Reed asked, surprised. At Tucker's sheepish shrug he said, 'If you're feeling sorry for me, forget it. It was all a long time ago.'

'Nah. I'm just glad you inherited your father's stubborn streak and made it to Starfleet. Was that really what you wanted when you were nine?'

'My father thought it was just a phase, and if he hadn't been so dead set against it, it might have been. But he told me I couldn't—'

'And I know where that leads!' Tucker finished for him with a grin, which Reed echoed.

Letting go of his hand, Tucker reached and took Reed's jaw in a gentle but firm grasp. 'Open wide,' he ordered.

'What?'

Ignoring Reed's attempted protests, Tucker made a show of looking at his front teeth.

'Yep, all nice and straight. Looks like your momma was wrong.'

Having uttered those cryptic words he released Reed and sat back, waiting for the reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Reed let his head fall back on the pillows, covered his face with both hands and groaned, 'Dear God, please tell me I haven't been wandering around the ship dribbling around my fingers for the last four days!'

'Don't worry, we were only treated to that charming display once, in the command centre with just the senior officers present. It was kinda...'

'Cute?' Reed suggested, sarcastically.

'No. You did and said a lot of things that were cute.' He ignored Reed's disgusted snort and went on, 'But that was kinda disturbing. It was just so, so alien somehow, so not you, that it brought it all home, you know? What had happened and all.'

'Sorry.' Reed reached out and took hold of Tucker's hand again. 'I used to do it to annoy Mum, if she wouldn't let me have my own way over something. It drove her wild.'

'I can imagine,' Tucker said with feeling. 'This time it was me you were mad at.'

'Really? Why?'

Tucker glanced around the room, at the privacy curtain surrounding Major Hayes' bed and at Phlox's open office door. 'I'll tell you later,' he said, uncomfortable with the possibility of being overheard discussing something so personal to the two of them.

'Anything else especially embarrassing that I should know about before visitors start arriving eager to rub it in?'

'Not specially. You might find Hayes a bit more respectful when he's back on duty.'

'Oh?

Tucker hastened to dispel the worried suspicion in Reed's question. 'You gave him quite a display target shooting. And reeled off a whole list of prizes you'd won. I think he was impressed. Heck, even I was impressed.'

Reed didn't look reassured and Tucker decided it was probably wise not to mention the little 'discussion' he'd had with the major about Malcolm. He could tell from looking at Malcolm that the man knew he was holding something back and hastily decided it was time that duty called.

'I should get back to engineering. The Xindi didn't get anywhere near the warp engine, but there's all sorts of systems checks to run.'

'That's all right. Though what I'm going to do stuck here for 24 hours I don't know.'

'I'll bring you something to read when I come back.' Tucker paused for effect, then continued, 'One of my Dark Avenger comics, maybe?' The look of startled horror on his lover's face was sweet reward indeed for all the caustic

comments he'd endured over his own addiction to comic books.

'Shit!' Reed exclaimed, once again flopping back against the pillows, this time with one arm across his eyes. 'Shit, shit, shit. I'd forgotten how much I was into that when I was nine.' He lowered his arm just far enough to peer at Tucker over it. 'You're never going to let me forget this, are you?' he accused.

'Hey, I'm not the one who refused to go to sleep at night unless he was allowed a Dark Avenger story to read.'

A muffled groan was his only answer.

Relenting, he pulled Reed's arm away from his face and leaned in for a kiss. 'I'm just glad to have my own dark avenger back safe,' he said, before heading for the door with the promise, 'An' don't worry. Your secret's safe with me.'

As he walked he casually threw over his shoulder, 'And with the cap'n, and Travis, and Hoshi, and Phlox, and most of engineering. Oh and Major Hayes and your armoury guys...'

The sickbay doors slid shut behind him, but not before Reed's heartfelt, 'You bastard!' had set him off laughing again.


End file.
